


A Soft Place To Fall

by HoodedFigure



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Eventual Relationships, Forced Prostitution, Kidnapping, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Team as Family, Trans Jack, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-06
Updated: 2017-05-06
Packaged: 2018-10-28 14:15:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10832961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoodedFigure/pseuds/HoodedFigure
Summary: How a young, abused man finds a family among Los Santos's most dysfunctional criminals aka "Jeremy Joins the Crew"





	A Soft Place To Fall

**Author's Note:**

> So, I was thinking "Ok, but isn't there enough tragic backstories out there?" And I laughed and I laughed and I laughed as I opened up another word doc and started writing this. Please mind the tags.

* * *

 Los Santos wasn’t a city where people were allowed to hope. But that didn’t stop them from trying.

“I wouldn’t ask this of you unless it was really important,” the man sitting across from Jeremy implored. Outside, various people worked with equipment and tools, shouting instructions at each other. A crane lifted steel into the sky.

The man continued, “Look, the fact is that we need more money or the whole project is going to be scrapped. A lot of people are going to be out of the job. We need you, son.”

Jeremy didn’t respond. The clock on the desk ticked away.

His boss sighed. “Look, it’s fine if you don’t. But if those good people out there start asking questions, I’m not sure I can keep that from them, if you know what I mean.”

Again, Jeremy glanced out the window. While he didn’t exactly have any friends in the construction site, he still didn’t want to cause trouble. And refusing to sleep with someone for enough money to keep a project of this size afloat would certainly put a target on his back. Not only that, he would be out of a job as well.

Fear burning in his throat, he murmured, “I’ll do it. I’m not staying the fuckin’ night though.”

His boss sank in relief, giving him a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Nausea rose in his throat and he swallowed rapidly.

“Thank you, son. I know it’s hard but you’re doing the right thing. And Mr. Smith is going to be pleased as well.”

So that’s how he ended up at a hotel that cost more per night than he would probably see in an entire year of work. Jeremy wished that he had never walked into that meeting between the foreman and the so called “Mr. Smith.” That wasn’t the man’s real name, of course but clearly, the man was going for a stupid Matrix vibe. The wealthy businessman hadn’t taken his offered handshake. In fact, in their brief meeting, he had all been ignored.

He raised his hand to knock on the door but paused. Was he really prepared to go through with what was going to happen? It had been years since he had been through that kind of pain and turmoil. He had sworn never to be that vulnerable again. He could turn around and pack up his life and leave.

 But people were relying on him. People with families. He could do this for them.

 He knocked three times.

The door opened and Mr. Smith greeted him with a leer. “Well, you came. Your boss said you would be on time.”

Bristling at the implication that he was some sort of loyal dog, Jeremy pushed past the man. Smith closed the door and the two faced each other. The businessman was tall with oil black hair and piercing gray eyes. If it had been a regular meeting, Jeremy would have considered him hot. But all he could think of was a shark smelling blood in the water.

“It’s just one night, right?” murmured Jeremy. “And those people get to keep their jobs.”

Smith narrowed his eyes briefly as if confused and then laughed softly. “Yes, that’s right. You get to be a hero.”

Heroes don’t usually end up on their hands and knees on a fancy hotel bed.

Afterwards, he lay on the bed staring blankly at the wall. The room echoed with Smith trying to catch his breath. All Jeremy wanted to do right now was wash the stink of another human being off his skin and tend to his wounds. Carefully, he rolled off the bed and hearing no protest from Smith, started to get dressed. He had just pulled his shirt on when there was a knock at the door.

“Oh that’ll be my room service. You can let them in on your way out.”

Jeremy nodded numbly and walked back to the living room area. Not bothering to find his shoes, Jeremy slowly opened the door. But instead of a cart and a waiter, a gun was pressed to his forehead.

“Don’t make a sound. Step back into the room.”

His world narrowed down to the cold press of metal to his head. He obeyed the spoken instructions and stepped back. The intruder followed him and his face was illuminated by a spotlight. Ice blue eyes stared out from a pale white face, highlighted in black.

_Holy shit. It was the goddamned Vagabond._

What a perfect way to end this evening; being held at gunpoint by one of Los Santos’ most brutally violent criminals. Jeremy had read the newspapers, had seen the news. This man was capable of just about anything. He started to shake.

The criminal pressed a gloved finger to his lips and glanced at the bedroom door. “Is he in there?”

Jeremy nodded. He prayed that Mr. Smith was the person he was talking about.  

The Vagabond gestured with his head and Jeremy followed the instructions, stepping into the shadows. Even in the dimness, the other man’s eyes didn’t leave his face.

He was going to die. He was going to be shot in the head in the fancy hotel after being fucked by a sadistic asshole. Jeremy clenched his eyes shut, not wanting to see the shot coming.

Finally, the Vagabond spoke. “Can you get him to come out here? I promise that’s all I need from you.”

Jeremy swallowed, summoned his courage and called out, “Would you like your food in the kitchen?”

Mr. Smith grumbled, “You’re still here? Listen, I’m not feeding some who—“

The man eyes widened when he spotted the gun. It was almost worth it to see the shock on Smith’s face. He had a feeling this was a man that wasn’t used to being surprised.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

The Vagabond didn’t answer right away. Instead, he shoved Smith onto a couch and growled a “stay there.” Jeremy eyed the door. It wasn’t far away. There would security cameras and guards who would be summoned in a moment. But as if sensing his thoughts of escape, the Vagabond calmly stated, “I can shoot your legs out before you even get the door opened, kid. Don’t make me do that.”

Jeremy froze. Smith glared at him over the criminal’s shoulder.

“Don’t just stand there, you little prick. Go get help.” 

Without a word, Smith was pistol whipped and blood blossomed from a broken nose. Jeremy jumped as if he had been struck. He felt frozen, only allowed to watch the horror unfold.

The Vagabond, unruffled, pressed the gun to Smith’s head. “I thought we told you what would happen if you came into our city again. I even was so nice as to give you a warning last time. But here you are.”

Smith started to blubber. “Please, please, come on, man. I can give you money, property, whatever you want. Just don’t kill me, please. You want him?” They both turned towards Jeremy. “I can give you him. He cries too much but I’m sure you can get him to stop.”

The gun went off, blood spraying everywhere. Smith fell back onto the couch, blood and brain matter staining the white material.

Shock settled in. He couldn’t even scream at seeing a human being die in front of him. The Vagabond turned toward him and said something. Jeremy stared uncomprehending into the pale face. The man frowned and shook him slightly.

“Get your shoes on.”

He obeyed, mechanically sliding his feet into his torn sneakers and tying the laces. He didn’t know why he was putting on his shoes if he was going to be murdered. Pain flared in a few places and he hissed. A hand settled on his arm and kept him steady. When he straightened, the gun was pressed into his back.

“Now, we are going to take the service elevator to the basement to the car. Remember what I said. I can take your legs out in a heartbeat. Come on. Let’s go.

Wait. No, that wasn’t supposed to be part of the deal. He inhaled and whispered, “You said you would let me go. Please. I’m not going to tell anyone. Just let me go.”

The gun was nudged hard against his ribs. The Vagabond growled, “I am not going to repeat myself. Come on.”

Jeremy could feel the panic building as they descended into the basement. It had been almost too easy. There was no one in the hall as they left the room, no one for him to beg for help. The gun was forced into his ribs, adding to his growing list of pains. Down in the parking garage, the car was surprisingly nondescript. It was a black four-door with a beige interior. His kidnapper, because that is what was happening now, popped the trunk. Jeremy dug his heels.

“No, not in there, please. I won’t do anything, just please!” He tried to keep his voice level, not wanting to anger the other man. But he hated small, dark spaces.

But the criminal didn’t seem to have any mercy, staring blankly at Jeremy. “Get in the trunk. Now.”

Tears sprang to his eyes as he climbed in. The space was just big enough for him to curl up and the door slammed on him. Already, his heart rate increased and it was getting hard to breath. He could feel every bump and sharp turn. He should be yelling for help and pounding on the walls of the trunk. But he remained silent, terrified of the punishment for making any noise.

Finally, the car came to a stop. He heard muffled voices, quiet at first and then louder, angrier. The trunk opened and light flooded into his eyes.

Above him, a distinctly female voice asked furiously, “What the hell, Ryan?”

He whimpered, trying to make himself as small as possible. Any minute now, that belt was going to explode on his skin.

New voices chimed in.

“Who the hell is that?”

“Are we kidnapping people now? Awesome.”

“Seriously, who the hell is that?”

“Wait a second; is that the car I stole last week? Who fuckin’ said you could use that?”

Jeremy kept his eyes clenched shut. He didn’t want to see any faces and have someone put a bullet in his head. He avoided pain and death so far. How did things get so out of his control? He still needed to have a shower to clean off his encounter with Smith. To his humiliation, tears sprang to his eyes and started to spill down his face. He tried to contain his distress but his chest hitched with a sob.

The conversation around him silenced and for a few moments the only sound was his quiet crying. Then someone awkwardly tried to touch his back. He cried out and twisted away, trying to put as much space between him and his attacker.

“Hey, um, whoever you are. It’s ok. You can come out.”

Not believing a word, Jeremy curled further into a ball. There was no way in hell he was letting anyone near him.

Behind him, voices loudly whispered in a fast conversation. Finally, the woman lowly muttered, “All of you get the hell out. Yes, that means you too, Geoff.”

There was loud complaining but then it was quiet. Still, Jeremy didn’t move. It could be a trick to get him to let his guard down. Ignoring the cramping in his legs from being forced into a small space, he waited for a sign it was safe.

“Seriously, you can come out now. Everyone is gone. I just want to talk to you, okay?”

He had no reason to trust whoever was talking to him. But the trauma of his day was making him compliant. If he did as he was told, maybe he could go home. Maybe.

Unfurling himself, Jeremy carefully climbed out of the car to stand on stiff limbs. His legs buckled from the sudden pins and needles and someone stopped him from falling. He looked up into a woman’s broad face and frizzy red hair. She gave him an encouraging smile.

“There you go. Better outside here, huh?”

Jeremy couldn’t respond.

The silence stretched to an uncomfortable length and the woman shifted. Then, she asked brightly, “Are you hungry? We can find something for you to eat.”

“I want to go home.” His voice was quiet but sure. “Please, I just want to go home.” Not that he really had a home. The hotel room he rented on a weekly basis was only home to some rats. But it was far away from smiling businessmen and criminals with painted faces. “Let me go.”

The woman sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. Her answer was quiet but firm. “I can’t let you go, kid. Not until this thing blows over.”

He didn’t cry that time, but it was a near thing. Fear and despair clogged in his throat, making it difficult to breath. He was being held captive somewhere by people who had just killed a man in front of him. What was stopping them from hurting him? If they decided he was too much of a threat, would he be shot in the head as well? Or worse?

The woman reached for his arm and he jerked away. In response, she held out her hands in a non-assertive manner. “Ok, ok, no touching. I get it. Come on, there’s a room you can sleep in. And a shower, if you need it.”

There was no easy escape and Jeremy didn’t know how many other people were in the building. He remembered what the vagabond had said about shooting his legs and trembled. Better to go along with the flow for the time being.

The woman led him to a small room that had a bed and adjoining bathroom. True to her word, there was a shower in there. The bed looked comfortable but the sight of it turned his stomach.

“I’ll bring you some food soon, ok? Just, try and relax. Nothing is going to happen.” The door closed behind her and a lock slid into place. It was hopeless, but Jeremy tried it anyway. It didn’t budge.

Seeing nothing else to do, Jeremy mechanically took a shower. As he was taking off his clothes, he caught a glimpse of his back and grimaced. Smith had wanted to take a belt to him, hitting him on his back over and over again. Already, painful bruises were forming, a mix of red and purple. There were other bruises littering his thighs and hips from where Smith had gripped him hard while he was fucked.

He had nearly hyperventilated when Smith had brought the belt out, on the verge of calling the whole thing off. But Smith reminded him of the deal, of all those people who needed a job. And so he had took everything the man dished out, sobbing every time the leather bit into his skin.

Well, it didn’t matter anymore, did it? Smith was dead. And he was here.

Surprisingly, there was soap and shampoo in the shower. Afterwards, he felt kind of like a human being again. Back in the room, there was a plate of food; a couple of sandwiches, an apple and a big glass of water. His stomach growled but he ignored it. God even knows what was in there. He climbed into the bed, wrinkling his nose at the bleach smell that came with white sheets. Sleep eluded him, despite his exhaustion and eventually, he gave up. Feeling like a little kid, he wrapped the blanket around himself and crawled under the bed. There, scared and alone, he cried to himself. 

* * *

 Jack closed the door leading to the re-purposed storeroom and locked it. With a sigh, she leaned against the door and closed her eyes, trying to think of a plan.

 Right now, she:

 

  * Had a murder she ordered witnessed by someone



 

  * Who had then been kidnapped and brought to her hideout



 

  * The murderer hadn’t even made an effort to hide what he was doing, by his own admission



 

  * She now had no fucking clue what she was going to do next



Once again, she cursed “Smith” for not listening to the warning they gave him. And she cursed Ryan for good measure. Now she had a whole headache of a mess to deal with.

Fuming, she stalked back to where everyone had gathered. Michael and Gavin were quiet for once, poring over some blueprints. Geoff was drinking beer and flipping through the TV. And Ryan was observing everyone from his perch on a chair. He still had some paint on his face near his hairline and for some reason that ticked her off even more. Jack snatched the remote from Geoff and turned off the TV.

Geoff coughed, peering at Jack. “How’s the kid?”

She tossed the remote on the couch and starting pacing. “How do you think he is, Geoff? Scared, in shock, terrified.” She rounded on Ryan, pointing at him. “How could you be so stupid, huh? I sent you because the rest of these idiots,” Gavin squawked indigently, “Would make it a spectacle. All I wanted was you to kill Smith, nice and quiet. Now, we got this shit to deal with. Were you even thinking about how we are going to deal with this?”

Ryan shrugged. “I didn’t know he was going to be there.”

“So you wait! You wait until he leaves and then you kill the asshole! Or you stash him in the bathroom! What you don’t do is shoot someone in the head in front of him!”

Geoff coughed again. “There are ways to get rid of him.”

Jack turned to him and vehemently hissed, “We are not killing him because of a rookie mistake, Ramsey.”

“Yeah,” chimed in Michael from the table. “We built up too much of a reputation. Word gets out that we intentionally murder bystanders? Too much fucking heat, if you ask me.”

Geoff, pouting from being shouted at, muttered, “I wasn’t going to say we kill him, Jesus fuck.”

Again, Jack flipped to Ryan. “Seriously, what were you thinking?”

Ryan pressed his lips together. “I lost my cool. Smith said something and I shot him.”

She narrowed her eyes. There were a few possibilities of why exactly why a kid like their hostage would be in a fancy hotel room that late at night. Add in a rich, slimy piece of shit like “Mr. Smith” and she had a pretty good idea of what was happening. She didn’t like it one bit. Her voice softened, “What did he say?” She prayed that Ryan told her something that would really cement her order to kill the man. “Tell me exactly what he said.”

The tension on the room was thick and she could tell Ryan was choking on it. He preferred to be quiet and let his actions do his talking for him. She tolerated that, as well as the face paint and the sudden brutal violence he was capable of. Right now, however, she didn’t care.

Finally, Ryan spat, “Smith said I could have the kid if I didn’t kill him. And that he cried too much but that I could probably make him stop.”

Jack nodded solemnly. The hostage did have a certain hunted look about him. He practically reeked of trauma. She was glad that son of a bitch was dead. One less rapist in the world was fine by her.

“Holy shit,” whispered Gavin. He straightened up, fiddling with the sunglasses on his head. “Well, now I’m really glad you killed him.”

Beside him, Michael muttered, “Fuckin’ asshole.”

Geoff opened another bottle of beer and drained the whole thing in one gulp.

Well, that was that then. One of her men had killed someone. But the witness was just as much a victim. From the outside, it would seem ridiculous. They were criminals. They had murdered, tortured, robbed. But sexual crimes were the one thing they would never do. Jack had worked hard to rid this goddamned city of any of that shit. A bastard like Smith wasn’t going to change that.  

“Get the word out that if anyone else thinks they can come here and do that, a bullet in the head is going to be the least of their worries. As for the kid, I’ll see if he can be convinced not to go running off to the police.” Seeing Geoff was about to say something, she held up a hand. “We try and buy him off. If that doesn’t work, we threaten him. I am not letting you kill him.” Letting her instructions sink in, she jerked her head. “Alright, get out of here. I don’t want to see anyone until long after noon.” Everyone filed out noisily and she was left in the silence. There were comfy beds in the hideout and exhausted by the stress of the day, she went to go find one.

Tomorrow, she would have to ensure everyone was on their best behaviour if she was going to get a scared hostage on her side. 

* * *

Jeremy awoke with a start as the door banged open. There was a pause and a loud curse. He held still, not even daring to breathe loudly.

“Jack! Where did you say you left him?!”

Feet appeared in his line of vision wearing expensive-looking loafers. The person swore again, noisily placing a plate next to the untouched food from last night. Jeremy’s stomach growled, reminding him it had been a long time since he ate.

The woman, presumably Jack, came into the room and paused for a moment. Then, she crouched down and met his eyes. He slid back, pressing against the wall.

Jack gave him a smile. “Hey, what are you doing down there? Perfectly good bed up here, you know.” Her gaze fell on the uneaten food and she frowned. The person next to her crouched next to her, eyebrows raised. He had black hair, a moustache and tattoos that went up and down his arms.

The newcomer spoke, “Wow dude. That is kind of fucked up.”

Jack smacked him on the arm and the two proceeded to have furious, but silent, conversation filled with gestures and eye movements. The stranger finally sighed loudly and backed off, muttering to himself.

Jeremy stared at Jack, who placed the food on the floor and sat down, crossing her legs. For a long moment, none of them spoke.

Then the other man loudly asked, “So you got a name, kid?”

Despite the danger, Jeremy bristled. “I’m not a kid. I’m twenty-five.”

The man cackled. “Sure, kid. Whatever you say. Now what’s your name?”

He hesitated, glancing at Jack, who gave him an encouraging nod. It was irrational but he still felt safe with her. Praying it was the right thing to do, he murmured, “It’s Jeremy.”

The stranger gave him an unfriendly grin. “Jeremy. Nice to meet you. I’m Geoff.”

The name and the face where tickling his subconscious. The people clearly were part of some sort of gang. There were too many of them for him to keep track of. Plus, he had only been here for a few months. The only one he really remembered was the Vagabond, who apparently worked with these people.

Geoff had clearly been waiting for a bigger reaction because the smile slipped. “Hello? Geoff? Leader of the Fakes? Most deadly gang in Los Santos? Come on!”

Jeremy shrugged. He pressed himself further into the wall to stay away from Geoff. The man was getting more and more agitated and finally Jack spoke up. “Oh my god, not everyone pays as close attention to the most wanted lists as you do. Leave him alone.”

Geoff gaped at her. “He’s a guest! It’s polite to know who your hosts are.”

Jack glanced at Jeremy briefly. “Guest is a pretty strong word, Geoff.”

The man made a frustrated sound. “Well, I can’t  have a conversation with someone when they are hiding under a bed, Jack!”

She studied her nails, seeming very unbothered by Geoff’s outburst. Jeremy admired her calmness. “Well, maybe if you stop yelling, he’ll come out.”

Together, they looked at Jeremy, Geoff expectantly and Jack neutrally. Keeping a careful eye on Geoff, he carefully slid out from under the bed. His injuries and stiffness flared to life and he bit his lip to stop from making a noise. When he sat, Geoff stood and he flinched at the movement. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jack look at him in alarm.

Geoff didn’t seem to notice and his eyes narrowed in focus. “So, what do you do?”

Jeremy blew out a breath and said shortly, “Construction.” He glanced at Jack and added quietly, “I’ve only been here a few months.”

Geoff scoffed. “Construction. Then how the hell did you fall in with someone like that rich piece of shit?”

He shrugged. “Running an errand for my boss.” He kept his eyes firmly on the ground. _Don’tlookdon’tlookdon’tlookdon’tlook._

“You always run errands for your boss that late at night?”

He shrugged again. “Doesn’t usually come up.”

“So you just happened to be in a penthouse suite, making a late night delivery for a boss you worked for a few months?”

“That’s what happened.” Geoff’s shoes had a strange silver pattern and he followed it with his eyes.

“Look at me, kid. Do I look like I believe you?” When Jeremy refused to look up, he took a step forward and growled, “Look at me, Jesus, what’s the matter with you?”

Without thinking, he threw up his hands to ward off any blows coming this way. Through his spread fingers, Geoff looked confused rather than angry. Finally, Jack stood and grabbed Geoff’s arm. “You are not helping. Go do something useful for once.”

Geoff gaped at her and sputtered, “I am _your_ boss!” She didn’t respond, slamming the door in his face. She came and sat down next to Jeremy on the narrow bed.

“Look, Jeremy…” She paused and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m only going to ask this once. Why were you in that hotel room? I know men like Smith. I know what they are like.” She stared hard at him. “He hurt you, right? Made you believe that you deserved it?”

He tried to keep calm but a sob slipped out. Soon, he let the whole thing came out. His boss, the belt, his fear and pain, all of it. It was ridiculous that he was spilling out his story to someone who he didn’t even know, let alone someone who was indirectly responsible for keeping him captive. Jack rested a comforting hand on his shoulder, giving him silent comfort. His crying tapered off until he could breath normally again.  

Afterwards, he was left feeling exhausted and hollow. He was hungry to the point of dizziness and his stomach gave a growl. Jack handed him the plate of food and said,, “We didn’t do anything to it.”

He carefully ate the sandwich. It was simple but after living on only cheap and scant meals for as long as he could remember, it was the best thing he had eaten in awhile.

Jack watched him wordlessly, handing over a glass of water. He drained most of it in one gulp, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Finally, she said, “I think it’s a good idea you stay with us for a while.”

He snorted. Stay. It wasn’t like he had a choice.

She continued, “ The police are looking for you. They think you did it. It’s good for us, of course. Keeps the heat off. But...” she shrugged. “I’m sorry.”

The dread was starting to come back. “I’m not a murderer.”

“I know that. But you said it yourself. You’ve only been here for a few months. Nobody really knows you, huh?”

He stared at her, trying to comprehend how things had gotten so fucked. “Then I’ll go to the police and tell them it’s all a mistake. That I didn’t see anything.”

She laughed, not unkindly. “You really are new. Police here are corrupt motherfuckers, kid. It doesn’t matter if you are telling the truth. Smith had his fingers in a lot of pies and losing that cash cow is going to piss off a lot of people. We can handle it. You weren’t meant to get involved with this. Trust me, I’m doing you a favour.”

He took another drink of the water. “You mean, you need to protect your crew. I’m just a liability.”

“Stop thinking like that. The heat will die down and we’ll send you on your way. I got you into this mess and no one is going to hurt you. Just...stay away from Ryan. He’s a little intense.” She stood up and brushed her legs off. “Do you need anything? More food or maybe some pain pills for…” Her voice trailed off as she looked meaningfully at him.

His back throbbed. “Some painkillers would be nice, I guess.”

With a nod, she left. Jeremy was left feeling a little less wary around Jack. He could trust her, that was certain. But Geoff seemed to think he was in charge and was slightly more volatile. And then there was the aforementioned Ryan. He shuddered. The Vagabond. He may have only been in the city for a few months but he heard all about the man. He was sure when that gun was shoved in his face, he was going to die.

He didn’t feel any more safe. Still exhausted, he lay down and dozed. He woke up a little while later and found a couple of pills on the table. At least he had someone looking out for him. He just prayed she could control the rest of them.

* * *

 

 This time, when Jack exited the room, Geoff was waiting for her. His face was stormy. She went and found some painkillers and dropped them off to a sleeping Jeremy. Thank god he was sleeping on the bed this time. She paused for a moment to look at him. He looked even more young in his sleep, the worried expression relaxing a little. She would be willing to bet that Smith wasn’t the first asshole to hurt him. What she said was true: she had a crew to look out for. It had been forever since she had cared about anyone outside of them. But Jeremy was kind of changing that. She couldn’t quite put her finger on why. Maybe it was just Jeremy himself. He kind of gave off an aura of “please don’t hurt me.” Perfect blood for circling sharks.

Geoff gave her a half-hearted glare but there was no real heat. She paused for a moment before locking the door.

“I wouldn’t do anything to him, you know.” His gaze was intense. “You do know that, right? I just...want to look out for us.”

She gave him a tired smile. For all his macho posturing, Geoff did care about his people. If Jack said not to do anything, he wouldn’t. He may bitch and whine about it, but he wouldn’t undermine her.

Geoff continued, “I’m just saying we should be careful. If push came to shove, he’s not one of us. He’s scared and scared people do stupid things. Are you telling me he wouldn’t go to the police?”

Jack shrugged. That was true. But she had a good feeling about him.

“I’m asking you to trust me on this,” she said. “I think he’s going to be useful to us. We just have to get him on our side.” Geoff’s expression didn’t change. “He’s been through hell, Geoff. Do you really think he is going to want to explain to anyone what he was doing in that room?”

The man grumbled, conceding her point. “Ok, but he doesn’t trust us either.”

“Then we work on that. We keep him here, show him that we aren’t the bad guys, and calm him down. The police will move on to the next scandal and everything goes back to normal. Worst case scenario, we have to threaten him into silence. Best case, we have a new ally.” She pushed a frizzy strand of hair out of her face. “I don’t think we’ll have to threaten him though.”

“Alright. Alright, fine. But if this blows up, I need you to clean up the mess. I hate to admit it, but you may be right.” He scrubbed a hand over his hair and then snorted. “Do you really think we can get him to trust us though? Christ, Jack, have you met us?”

As if fate was listening, the door to the hideout banged open and Gavin, Michael and Ryan noisily made their way in. The two younger men were loudly arguing and Ryan was icily observing them. She winced. Geoff may have a point.

* * *

 


End file.
